


Hunger

by Prurient



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Brother Feels, Firsts, Guardiancest, Humiliation, Incest, Kinks, Let Me Tell You About Homestuck, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Smut, Swearing, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-08-29 11:13:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8487169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prurient/pseuds/Prurient
Summary: Dave and Bro fight, fuck, and figure things out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Revised this to be in first person, think it works a bit better this way now. POV switches between Dave and Bro are hopefully a bit clearer. :)

Bro had to work late again, some 21+ club gig, so I was left to fend for myself, as usual. Rifling through my closet for the second time that night, and kicking an empty apple juice container out of a heap of rumpled shirts, I reluctantly decided that I was, definitely, out of food.

"Never anything to eat in this goddamn place," I grumbled to myself, silently, of course - years of living with Bro had taught me never to complain out loud, and the lesson had stuck - I never whined, even when I was alone, as I so often was. _Well shit._

Pushing a stray blonde lock behind my new Stiller shades - _sooo cool_ \- I wondered what to do. I'd already emptied my change jar on pizza earlier that week, and Bro hadn't left any money on the counter since at least last month. _Damn_ he could be thoughtless. For a single moment only, I gritted my teeth and tensed my slender shoulders in resentment, before pushing that feeling down - no, no point in getting worked up, didn't change anything, Bro was who he was.

Stomach grumbling, I considered braving the kitchen to check the cabinets for stale ramen, anything, but what would be the point - a pile of impudent, jutting smuppet rump was the last thing I needed right now, and who knows where Cal might be lurking.

If I held out til Bro got home, he _might_ decide to order us food, but he'd be drunk, and unpredictable - if the gig had gone badly, he'd come home shitfaced and in the mood to strife. If it had gone well, he might be almost friendly, and we'd hang out on the futon, eating greasy take-out and watching some of his rad movies. Or he might bring someone home, and I would have to stay out of sight, listening to them fuck like rabbits for hours through the thin walls. Then Bro would sleep all day, and he might very well take off again, with no chance to hint at grocery money... No, I reflected, counting on Bro was a bullshit idea.

Briefly, I considered grabbing a twenty from the wad of cash I knew he kept bundled in his boxer drawer - I'd seen him add to it after one of his shows - but of course that was off-limits, like all of Bro's stuff. Was dinner worth such a serious ass kicking? I rubbed my smooth jaw pensively, where a yellow bruise still ached from our rooftop strife earlier that week. Probably not. 

"Whatever," I shrugged, and decided to give up on eating for the moment. Hoping to distract myself from my totally rude hunger, I slid into my desk chair and opened up Pesterchum. TC was online, and I wasted some seriously sick rhymes on him, although I kept subconsciously slipping in food imagery... _Vienna sausages, kraft mayo_... 

_Ah, so hungry..._ Despite myself, I couldn't stop sneaking glances at Bro's closed bedroom door.

Finally, around midnight, I couldn't take it anymore. My mouth watered at the thought of that gooey cheese pizza, and my stomach was cramping. It would be so easy to swipe the cash, Bro wouldn't be home for hours anyway, he never came home before 4 or 5am, and I'd just...

Before I knew it, I was inside the total darkness of Bro's room, enveloped in a rush of humid air from the warm summer rain pounding away noisily outside the open windows. My senses on edge, I blundered blindly across the room to Bro's set of drawers. Three times, I tripped over piles that clanged with (what sounded like) a combination of dirty dishes and shitty swords, and each time, my heart jumped into my throat, terrified that Bro had come home and caught me snooping around in his room.

Finally, my eyes adjusted, and I pulled the creaky top drawer open. Quickly plunging wrist deep into Bro's boxers, I rummaged through handfuls of ironic underwear - grinning Mickey Mouse, goofy rabbit prints, ...a gold spandex thong? Okay... Finally, I located the thick wad of bills, wrapped up securely inside a large pair of silky pink satin panties ( _why, Bro??_ ).

I suddenly felt choked by the musky smell on Bro's clothes, and to my horror, I felt a stirring in the pit of my stomach, as my cock twitched with a half-boner. Urugh, NO, I was NOT excited by fingering Bro's weird underwear. If anything, I was turned on by... the deep twisted irony, or something?? _Focus, Strider._

I fumbled with the pack's rubber bands until I got a $20 out, hastily wrapped the wad back in the panties, jammed everything back into the drawer, and retreated to the living room to wait for the pizza delivery guy. 

Sitting on the beat up futon, I took a deep breath and started to dial for pizza - of course I knew the number by heart - but the bill clutched in my fist was damp with sweat, my heart was still pounding, that warm feeling in my guts was distracting me, and I kept hitting the numbers wrong. 

Closing my eyes, I slowly leaned back on the futon, til I was lying down full-length, and let the phone drop onto the dirty floor.

Something about the terror of sneaking into Bro's dark, hot, cluttered, room, touching his things, smelling his smell, was driving me crazy. I FELT crazy, worked up over some sick shit like this, but it was already happening, I had pulled my cock out of my pants, completely hard now, and begun to gently tug at it, pulling in circles the way it felt so good.

Face flushing beneath my sunglasses, I gave in to the nasty thoughts I felt bubbling up - yeah it was fucking disgusting to jerk it to thoughts of my big brother, but picturing Bro's lean, hard muscles, slicked with sweat from strife, made me so hot I could barely stand it.

Imagining Bro's broad shoulders tensed, his lips slightly parted, wiry hands pushing my head down... _start licking, lil bro_... hyunghh...

My throbbing cock leaked precum, and I massaged it into the tip, holding in moans.

"Heyy there," I suddenly heard slurred in drawled amusement from across the room. 

Oh my god, Bro was home. Completely panicked, I shot up, trying desperately to cover myself with a copy of _Game Bro_ , hoping maybe Bro hadn't seen what I was doing?? 

"Havin fun?" Bro smirked, with an exaggerated waggle of his blonde eyebrows visible above his anime shades. 

Utterly mortified, I mumbled something indistinct like "uh you know.." but Bro was already loping down the hallway back to his bedroom, the great sharp bark of his laugh echoing as he went, gear slung over one muscular shoulder. 

Jesus. I zipped up my pants and slumped forward with my head in my shaky hands, so humiliated I felt nauseous.

The last minute flashed again through my mind - Bro sprawled easily against the front door, staring right at me ( _how long had he been standing there??_ )... the casual mockery of his sardonic drawl, his seeming playfulness always tinged with derision. Ughh. 

But what was he doing home so early?? It couldn't be later than 1... I could hear in his voice that he definitely had a buzz on, but he seemed in good spirits...

Maybe this particular humiliation would be just another bizarre episode we would both ignore, and maybe it would be a good night after all!

My spirits perked up at the thought, until I suddenly remembered the money I had taken. _Fuckkk._

Bro was sure to add tonight's payment to his bundle, notice the missing bill, and flip the fuck out... Maybe I could replace it while he showered - the low groaning of the pipes was audible even now - and maybe he'd never be the wiser?

But fooling Bro was laughable, he seemed to have some crazy ninja sense, he noticed everything. Maybe best to just admit it and get the beating over with.

Feeling a bit defiant, I strode down the hallway to Bro's room, the bill held tightly in my hand.

The bathroom door was open, billowing steam hanging in the cool air of the hallway, and Bro's door was closed - the guy moved so quickly and silently, it was unreal - and I took a breath before knocking.

My knuckles had barely touched the flaky white paint of the door when it swung open, momentarily throwing me off balance, another point lost in my ongoing battle with Bro, who had evidently expected me. 

"Yeah?" Bro pressed his face up against the edge of the door frame, strong jaw rough with that day's stubble, his breath a warm gust of whiskey and stale Camels, "Come to fess up for goin through my shit?" 

So he did know. Of course.

I held out the money wordlessly. 

Bro seemed to ignore the gesture, leaving me standing there awkwardly for a full moment, before he finally took a step back, pulling the door open in the same fluid motion.

The lights were on in the room now, and my eyes flicked reflexively across the mess before entering, always cautious about stepping into some booby-trapped shit. A ball-gagged smuppet drenched in (what I hoped was) fake blood caught my eye, and I repressed a shudder - wouldn't want to watch whatever batshit video that one was part of.

As I scanned the room, I never let Bro out of my sight, watching him out of the corner of my eyes, as I'd been taught, for any movement that might signal strife. This time, though, Bro was just standing there languidly, steam rising off his broad, bare chest, towel slung carelessly around his waist. He looked like a big cat - a panther, or something equally brutal.

Automatically, I squared off, ready for Bro to pounce at any second. 

"Cut that shit out," Bro drawled dryly. 

I obediently dropped my fists, but I kept my muscles tensed, continuing to scan the room for a decent sword, in case it did go full on strife. True, at this moment, Bro seemed at ease, hardly angry, in fact, but I knew how quickly his mood could change.

Putting his signature cap back on over his damp blond hair, and toweling his chest off slowly, Bro continued thoughtfully, "Ya know, I _should_ beat your ass, ya sneaky bastard."

The hair on my arms rose another fraction of an inch. C'mon, get it over with already, waiting was always the worst part. 

Taking the towel to dry off his back, Bro flashed his huge dick, hanging unapologetically between his hairy thighs. I lowered my eyes to the floor to avoid staring, feeling my cheeks beginning to burn with the memory of my earlier fantasies. 

Shameless as always, Bro seemed not to notice (or was this some masculine dominance bullshit?? was he taunting me?? who could tell), and he continued drawling, "Whadya want goin thru my stuff? Huh?" 

"I was hungry," I admitted, cursing myself for my plaintive tone, head still lowered. 

"Yeahh, I'll bet you were," Bro said, a funny quirk in his voice, as he pulled on a white polo shirt and black slacks, and cinched his belt. "That what got ya all worked up? Goin through my underwear?" 

"What?!" I burst out, jerking my head up so quickly it hurt, "No!"

There seemed to be a hard glint in Bro's eyes, but I could never really read them behind those shades. Did he actually mean what it sounded like?? 

"Hunh," Bro grunted, sounding like he'd reached some private conclusion, and seeming to dismiss the issue, added in a sing-song Michaelangelo voice, "Well, c'MON lil bro, order us some fuckin PIZZA, I'm starved!" 

Regaining my composure as the interaction returned to "normal," I managed to return with an ironic, surfer style "Alrighhht!" 

Relaxing my stance slightly, I realized Bro had somehow slipped another twenty into my hand, and I headed back out to the living room to finally place that order, nearly giddy with relief that the ordeal seemed to be over, miraculously without any bloodshed.


	2. Chapter 2

Later that night, after gorging myself on a whole Pizza Hut pepperoni pizza, I stealthily eyed Bro, who was draped over the other end of the couch, lazily downing his fourth High Life, and gettin pretty mothafuckin hooched, from what it looked like.

"Have one." Bro drawled.

"Na, I'm good..."

"It's the champagne of beers, son!" Bro crowed, tossing one at me.

I narrowly caught the can before it clipped me in the head.

"Sooo," I said, cracking open the beer and dutifully taking a sip, "how'd the show go?"

Bro barked his sharp laugh again, "Some asshole got shot, fuckin bloodbath before the cops closed the place down."

"Sounds cool."

"Yeahh, it was like Shogun's Assassin up in there," Bro chuckled, rubbing his stubbled chin with evident delight. "Got paid too."

Well, that explained his good spirits - Bro lived for combat, the bloodier the better, and he never hesitated before diving into the fray. _So rad._

For a while, we drank in silence, and a pile of cans grew on the floor between us. (Personally, I thought High Life tasted like piss, though I'd never admit it to Bro.)

Then, "You know how to shotgun a beer, baby bro?" Bro queried, leering a bit.

"Uhh, I think so..." I began, hoping to ward him off, but Bro had already pulled a blade out of his pocket and flicked it open.

"C'mere."

Cautiously, I slid across the ripped futon, feeling like I was entering the lion's den.

"Closer."

My skin prickled as my thigh touched Bro's.

"Here, I'll do it for ya." Deftly, Bro stabbed a hole in the can's side, and covered it with his thumb. "Now, put your mouth over the hole..."

I leaned in closer, pursing my lips against the dented can, my head awkwardly poised above Bro's crotch, and began guzzling as Bro cracked open the tab. Gulping like a champ as the yellow stream of bitter beer gushed into my mouth, I couldn't help picturing the scene from Little Monsters ( _damn you, Egbert!_ ). 

Wiping my mouth when the can was dry, I gave an exaggerated "ta-da!" flourish, and then fell back into the futon, realizing with a floaty feeling of amusement that I was kind of wasted. 

Eyes half open, I watched Bro grab another can from the 24-pack, gracefully crack it open and drain it like a pro, and then crush it in his gloved fist and toss it onto the pile with the others. A splash of red caught my eye as Bro moved. 

"Your arm - you're hurt," tumbled out of me, and before I could control himself, my long, slender fingers were grabbing at Bro's shirt, pushing up the sleeve to expose a raw gash on the back of his shoulder.

"Ehh, it's nothin," Bro shrugged, and I felt my brother's muscles stiffen under my fingers.

I blushed as I realized I was violating our unspoken taboo - we never touched, unless we were strifing - and I expected Bro to recoil. He didn't move, however, and I lingered a moment with my hand on his warm skin, suddenly realizing how thirsty for that contact I really was. 

Reluctantly starting to pull away, I jumped as I felt Bro's strong hand close around my wrist. 

"This what you want?" Bro demanded, his deep voice sounding huskier than usual. 

Heart pounding, I cocked my head, trying to make out Bro's intentions, but the light reflecting off his shades made his intentions as impenetrable as ever.

"Don't bullshit me," Bro growled, his grip tightening painfully.

"Ye- yes!" I stammered, and Bro pulled me roughly onto his lap, his lips closing swiftly over my involuntary murmuring, his stubble scratching sharply at my soft cheeks.

A flood of longing filled me, as I gave my mouth over to Bro's insistent tongue, and twined my fingers deeply into his spiky blond hair. Tentatively, I yanked once on his hair, and was startled again by his nigh instantaneous response, a sharp bite on my lower lip that made me cry out and check for blood. 

Bro grinned toothily, a rare smile that looked more like a wolf's snarl, and unzipped his fly. Pulling his thick, erect cock out of his slacks, he drawled, "go ahead, lil man." 

As I nervously opened my mouth and leaned in toward his rigid member, Bro drawled tauntingly, "uh-uh, strip first."

Sitting up, I began to pull off my shirt.

"Stand up," Bro instructed.

Getting to my feet unsteadily, I wriggled out of my shirt, blushing furiously as I felt Bro's eyes burning into my pale skin, and saw him stroking himself patiently.

Strategically dropping my shirt onto a pile of leather thong-wearing smuppets ( _don't need them watching too_ ), I began fumbling with my pants, finally managing to kick them off.

I began to tug down my boxers, feeling grateful for my shades, a last refuge from Bro's unwavering stare. 

Seeming to read my mind, Bro drawled, "those too."

More embarrassed by my naked eyes than my swelling erection, I cast them down.

"Now, twirl."

 _How like him,_ I thought, woozily spinning around, _to remain fully clothed as he made his little bro stand bare ass naked for his inspection._

Bro seemed satisfied by what he saw, however, and he lazily gestured for me to kneel between his knees.

Maybe it was the beer ( _how many had I had? I couldn't remember_ ), but this encounter was feeling pleasantly surreal, and my "what the fuck are we doing??" feeling passed quickly, as I lowered my warm, wet mouth onto Bro's throbbing cock.

Licking gingerly at first, then feeling my own cock twitching at the warm, bread-like smell, I sucked more eagerly, trying to imitate the videos I'd seen. My bony knees pressed painfully into the floor, until I located one of the hip hop smuppets and slid it under myself ( _thanks, Mr. T_ ).

Doing my best not to gag as Bro ground his dick against the back of my throat, I bobbed my head up and down agreeably, trying to adjust in response to the guttural sounds he was making.

The more Bro groaned, the more eagerly I sucked, feeling something approaching joy as I realized I was actually pleasing him, something I had never before felt certain of doing.

Bro seemed especially turned on when I was sloppy, so I experimentally spat on his thick tip, and grinned despite myself as I watched him shiver. After that, I used lots of spit, til Bro's thick cock was dripping with it, and from time to time I paused to let him slap my face with it, loving the filthy feeling of being covered in a mix of Bro's precum and my own saliva. 

Eventually, I could feel Bro stiffen all over, and I braced myself, although I still gagged a bit when he shot his huge load directly into my throat.

Pulling out midway, Bro shot more onto my upturned face, and then, tugging my lower lip down, emptied the rest of his hot, salty load into my mouth.

My eyes closed, I waited a minute before swallowing, turning the thick cum around in my mouth, relishing the taste. 

Wiping my mouth on the back of my hand, I looked up shyly at him. "Was that okay?"

"Mmm," Bro replied, zipping his fly, and pulling me up onto the futon with him.

Bro leaned back in silence for a moment.

My sticky face felt taut with drying cum, and I angled my throbbing hard-on toward him, silently begging him to touch me. 

Finally, Bro seemed to come out of his reverie, and cracking open another beer, drawled, "Go clean up, an go to my room."

Gratefully, I nearly ran to the bathroom, feeling Bro's burning gaze on my ass as I went.


	3. Chapter 3

Peering into the grimy mirror of our cramped bathroom, I vigorously scrubbed Bro's dried jizz off my chin. God, it was weird seeing my eyes without shades (and my face covered in cum...), and I fidgeted in nervous excitement.

If _Plush Rump_ was any indication, Bro was into some pretty fucked up shit - could he _really_ be making all that garbage _just_ for his subscribers?? - but I had been yearning for this moment for longer than I cared to admit, and I decided that I was down for whatever depraved shit Bro might cook up. _Fuck it._ Besides, whatever else I might be feeling, I couldn't deny that I was growing hella hard again in anticipation. 

Pushing myself to forget my queasy anxiety, I swallowed hard, then plunged ahead into Bro's room.

The overhead light was off, and I could just make out Bro's lanky silhouette by the blue glow of his computer monitor.

He had tossed his polo onto a heap of clothes by the bed, and was reclining shirtless on the bare mattress, propped up on a pile of pillows (or wait, goddamnit - more smuppets). His long, lean form was strikingly handsome in the dim light, even with the fine white scars that crisscrossed his chest, and I felt my cock grow rock hard as I ogled his chiseled abs, and the golden happy trail disappearing under his waistband. _Nnnnn._

Spreading his legs in a wide V, Bro patted the floral-printed mattress between them, then crooked his index finger coyly in a theatrical "come hither" gesture.

I shivered. 

Carefully picking my way through the mess, I finally made it to the foot of the mattress, then scooted up til I was nestled between Bro's legs, my bony back pressing against his bare chest.

The sensation of being totally nude on Bro's bed, our skin actually touching, was setting off alarm bells in my head, but I steeled myself to hold still, and wait for whatever Bro did next.

And yet, several minutes went by where nothing happened. 

Bro's warm, boozy breath gusting against my neck was driving me wild, and finally, I reached down to play with my aching cock.

Before my fingers could even close around my shaft, however, Bro had grabbed my arm and bent it roughly backwards. 

I sucked in my breath sharply, but I managed not to cry out.

"Eager little slut, aren't ya," Bro whispered huskily into my ear, sounding slightly amused, but increasing the pressure on my arm.

I breathed quietly through the pain, focusing my gaze on the window, where early sunrise was slowly filling the room with red light. 

"First rule, no touchin yourself," Bro rasped. "If you're good, I'll do it, an more. Got it?"

I nodded stiffly.

"Good," Bro said, releasing my arm, and passing me up a flask, "drink."

As I shook out my sore shoulder and obediently drank (this stuff wasn't half bad, I ruminated, sort of fiery and cinnamony), Bro dug a couple of bottles out of his bedside table.

"Now, get on your hands and knees."

My heart fluttering, I crawled into doggy position, extremely self-conscious about my skinny body and throbbing hard-on. 

Peeling off his black gloves, Bro squirted some lotion onto his left hand, knelt, and reaching around, began jerking me off with fast strokes. Flipping christ, it felt amazing.

"This what you were thinkin about earlier?" Bro drawled sardonically, and I blushed, immensely grateful to be facing away from him, without the constant pressure of masking my facial expressions. 

Just as I was giving myself over completely to the incredible feeling of Bro's firm, wet strokes, my insides clenched in painful shock, as he slipped a lubed finger up my tight ass.

"Owww!" I blurted out, wheeling around partway to glare accusingly at Bro, who laughed.

"Look at you, moaning like a grade A whore over a lil pain. Keep drinkin."

I awkwardly choked down a few more gulps of the fiery liquid, desperate for any relief the booze might bring, as Bro painfully spread my asshole open with his calloused fingers.

For a few minutes, Bro continued to simultaneously stroke me and aggressively finger my ass.

I forced myself to focus on the intense pleasure of being jerked off by my big brother, and to drown out the sharp pain of being opened up according to his impatient libido. 

After a few minutes of clenching my teeth, however, the liquor began to do its work, and I felt awed as my muscles relaxed, and the 'sadistic proctologist' experience transformed into a deep, gut-level pleasure. 

Approaching my limit, my thoughts completely dissolved into a delirious rush of sensations, I wriggled uncontrollably against Bro's fingers, yearning to draw him in deeper and bring myself to climax.

Realizing suddenly what I was doing, I feared the anger that my impetuous movement would provoke, but Bro's throaty growl sounded approving, as he slowly withdrew his fingers from my tender ass. 

Subduing a whine of need, I teetered desperately at the edge of orgasm, silently begging Bro to resume fingering me, when he swiftly unzipped his fly, and thrust his enormous, lubed up cock deep into my ass.

The feeling of being completely full of Bro's thick cock was overwhelming.

When Bro again grabbed my trembling dick and began to jerk me off as he thrust, it only took two pumps before I exploded in an insane orgasm that shot thick strands of cum across his bed. 

Bro's pounding became more violent, and feeling dizzy, I buried my face in the old mattress, submitting completely to his powerful thrusts. 

Sometime later, I opened my eyes to find Lil Cal grinning evilly at me from the foot of the bed, and realized with a start that I had passed out at some point, as Bro continued to mercilessly slam into my ass over and over.

I closed my eyes again, trying to block out that goddamn puppet's uncanny stare - a feat made easier by Bro's brutal pumping, and the fact that he was drawling profanities so filthy they made my cheeks flush hotly with embarrassment. 

Gripping my skinny waist, Bro rammed me repeatedly, balls slapping, until he finally burst into a powerful orgasm that wracked his whole muscular body, and he clawed at my soft skin.

I loved the way Bro held me tightly as he shuddered out the last squirts, and the spreading warmth I felt as he filled me up with cum. 

After a moment, Bro pulled out with a wet sound, and left me trembling on my knees, cum leaking out of my ass. 

Stripping off his slacks, Bro lay back on the bed, and opened his legs wide.

"C'mere baby bro," he drawled lazily, cock dripping between his hairy thighs, "Clean up your mess."

Turning around slowly, I was at first confused, then horrified, as I looked from Bro's sloppy dick to his icy poker face, and saw that he was totally serious. "Whattt? Eughh, c'mon dude, no way!"

Instantly, Bro had a vice-like grip on my tousled hair, and as he forced my head down, he drawled, "Second rule, an I'm real disappointed I have to say this one - you don't _ever_ say 'no' to me. Now get to lickin, lil man."

Totally repulsed, I strained to pull away from Bro's filthy cock, my jaw clenched shut, but he swiftly grabbed my throat with his other hand, and choked me calmly until I opened my mouth to gasp for breath.

"Go on now," he insisted.

Furious, but unable to resist, I winced as Bro thrust his nasty cock into my unwilling mouth, and goaded me to lick and suck it clean, choking and slapping me roughly when I failed to show sufficient enthusiasm. 

After a couple minutes of this brutalization, I realized with a sickening sense of shame that I was actually becoming aroused by the degradation. The earthy taste of my own ass was not nearly as disgusting as I'd imagined - in fact, as Bro released my throat, I no longer needed prompting to continue licking and sucking on his giant member.

Bro noticed too, of course, and he cooed "what a disgustin display, ya nasty slut," as he bucked into my throat til I gagged, and stroked my fine blonde hair with exaggerated gentleness.

It was a gesture that might have been comforting, if it hadn't been tinged with cruelty, like all of Bro's "affectionate" gestures. In this case, it made me cry hot tears of rage and shame, and I was too exhausted to hold them in.

Seeming delighted, Bro continued to pet me and whisper abuse, as I cried myself out on his broad chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, sgt-spank, for the super sexy line "Look at you, moaning like a grade A whore over a lil pain"! More from sgt-spank: http://sgt-spank.tumblr.com/


	4. Chapter 4

Sunlight was streaming into my room when I began to stir, a little after 1. Goddamn, my body felt beat the fuck up, the last strife must have nearly killed me - I was sore in my very guts, hurting in muscles I had never felt before. But wait - we hadn't strifed last night... 

I blushed as the memories came flooding back in a jumble of images and emotions. 

Bro's head tilted back in a throaty growl, the first heady taste of his warm mouth, the fluttery excitement of kneeling for him, and the senseless pounding I had taken - a memory which caused my cock to throb sympathetically. 

Oh god, and crying in Bro's arms at the end, weeping like a Hollywood starlet aiming for her big break, _I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. Demille._ Shit was embarrassing. Though Bro had seemed to like it, the tool. 

Ughh and the _thing_ he had made me do, and worse, the way I had loved doing it.

I pulled the thin blanket up over my head, as though I could block out the awkward memories so easily. 

And yet, I could not help replaying the most painful memory: how quickly Bro had seemed to grow bored of our little tryst, once I had sobbed myself dry. As I lay breathing quietly, my head pressed against his chest, he had seemed to stiffen and almost to grow cold in my arms. Confused, I had pulled back slightly, when he "hinted" that I had overstayed my welcome. _Wham, bam, get the fuck out Ma'am._ Ashamed and hurt, I had fished around for my clothes for several minutes, as Bro took slow drags off a Camel, staring out into the distance, seeming to have already forgotten my existence. He never even looked at me as I dressed and then slunk back to my room.

For real, why did Bro have to be such a complete tool?? It wasn't as though I had expected after-sex cuddles - Bro really didn't seem like the cuddling type - but did he have to kick me out so swiftly, after the things he'd made me do? It was humiliating to feel so totally spurned and unwanted. Words like "cheap" and "used" felt grossly oversincere, but irony didn't seem quite right for the deeply shitty way I felt after this particular episode.

And yet, I was embarrassed for wanting more from the interaction than Bro. It was just sex after all, so what the fuck did it matter? 

I felt like shit, but decided resolutely that it was probably just the hangover and residual embarrassment over the tears. Oh well, it wasn't the first time I'd cried after taking a beating from Bro (ha ha). Nothing a shower and some AJ couldn't fix. Today would be a good day to do fuck all - get cleaned up, then maybe play some _Mad Snacks Yo_. Bro probably wouldn't be up til evening at least, the chance of strifing today seemed low. And there was leftover pizza in the living room.

Putting my shades back on, cool guy Dave got ready to face the day.

***

Stubbing out my third cigarette in a crack of my wooden bed frame, I wondered ruefully what the fuck I had been thinkin last night. How had I possibly let myself fuck my baby bro senseless?? 

I never lied to myself about my desires, an I'd been wanting Dave but bad for years - that beautiful soft pale skin, the brave face the kid put on when he got hurt, and his jutting, impudent ass, just beggin for a pounding - but I'd never given in, never so much as touched him, even casually, except when strifing. I prided myself on being a disciplined man. When the urges got too strong, I'd bring someone home from a show and spend my furious energy that way. But I never went near Dave.

Of course, the kid had just had a birthday, and he was now over the age of consent (the whole proud state of Texas liked em young, it seemed). This fact had not escaped my notice - very little did - but even if the state considered Dave an adult, he was still my blushing baby bro, and I had not intended to act on those cravings. 

Maybe that was why I'd been so rough with the lil guy - I was angry at having given in, angry at breaking down, and I hadn't held back, nailing that ass like a split hog. The memory was incredibly hot, though soured with guilt. After shooting my load into Dave's sweet ass, I'd gotten a little carried away, wantin that lil tease to act like the dirty slut I'd always pictured him being. But when Dave started full out sobbing on my chest, and I'd realized how sexy he looked broken down like that, I felt like a fuckin monster, and I couldn't get away from that angelic face fast enough. 

I wanted to blame the whole thing on Dave - the lil prick wanted it, jerkin it on _my_ fuckin futon and moaning my name, what'd he expect - but he was still just a kid. I was his Guardian, and I never forgot that. Hell, I knew I was a goddamned asshole, an I wasn't a perfect Guardian, but this time I had crossed the line, and there weren't enough cigarettes in the case to forget that. 

Time to stop mopin around and take a shower, maybe pump some iron today, clear my head. The kid would probably be holed up in his room after the shit I'd put him through last night - might as well get this motherfucker kicked off. Grabbing my towel, I headed to the bathroom.

Where I promptly ran into Dave. 

The kid was brushin his teeth and immediately stopped with that deer in the headlights look, like he thought maybe I was tryin to strife in the tiny bathroom now? Dave's fine blond hair was stuck up all over his head, and I couldn't help how strongly drawn to him I felt, but I pushed those thoughts away reflexively. 

Well, no point in draggin this out - 

"Hey lil man. About last night..."

Dave's expression stiffened in a decent poker face - least he was learnin something. 

"S'nothin," Dave grunted, looking down into the sink as he spat out a glob of toothpaste and swished his mouth clean from a chipped He Man mug. 

"Like hell it's not," I drawled. "Listen - I didn't plan on that happenin between us, an I wish I could take it back, but I can't. I shoulda stopped things before they went too far, but you know I'd never hurt you." 

Dave snickered, the lil shit, and I bristled.

"That funny?"

"You would never hurt me?" Dave queried, his voice rising and cracking slightly, as he turned to face me. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" 

Dave tried to push past me and slip through the door, but I stopped him with one hand in a practiced gesture.

"You got somethin to say, kid?"

My voice had taken on a dangerous edge, and Dave struggled to force his anger down, but this time, he could not stop himself. 

"You don't care about me at all! You love those fuckin smuppets more than me! Do you know that last night is the first time you've actually touched me in years?? How the fuck am I supposed to feel about that? And then the first time we're close you can't get rid of me fast enough!! Do I disgust you that much??" 

Dave was doing an acrobatic fuckin pirouette off the handle. He was shaking like a Parkinson's case, fists clenched so hard the knuckles were white. 

And then he slapped me in the face. 

I could feel the welt rising on my cheek as I stared down at my lil bro losing his shit, shocked that the kid had actually dared to take it that far, and I laughed tensely, my cheek stinging. 

"You sure got some big fuckin balls. An I deserved that one, so I'm gunna let it slide. You said your piece?" 

Dave still looked ready to spring, but he didn't say anything, so I continued. 

"Good. You're fuckin pissed, feel like I owe you some big apology. Well, tough shit baby bro, that's just how life is. When you came whizzin out of the sky, I didn't know dick about bein a Guardian, but I dug you outta that crater and tried to toughen you up, teach you how to survive in this brutal, bullshit excuse for a world."

Dave looked confused ( _what fucking crater??_ ), but I was on a roll. 

"I know I ain't always been what you need, but I'm all you got. An I didn't wanna complicate things any more than they were, but we done fucked that up now." 

I flexed my muscles restlessly, then angrily plunged ahead, "This shit's gettin too fuckin deep but we're already steppin in it, so let's waltz: the truth is, I need you more than you'll ever know, and I've been wantin you bad for years. You're all I fuckin think about. I could hate myself for it, but that wouldn't change a damn thing. So you wanna rage, go ahead. Hit me."

***

I paused, fists still clenched, trying to take it all in. Bro was staring straight at me, but his eyes were unreadable as always behind his shiny shades. 

"What - what are you even saying?" I managed eventually. "You treat me like shit because you're, what, in love with me or some shit??" 

Bro barked his sharp laugh and ran his fingers through his hair, seeming almost nervous, if a robot could have emotions. 

"What the flipping FUCK, Bro!!" I erupted, furious. "That is some sick shit!!" 

Without even realizing it, I had crossed the couple feet separating us and began to whale on him. Blood started pouring out of Bro's nose, and the sight made me realize I wasn't content to hit him, I wanted to fucking KILL him. Strangle him and slice him open and make him fucking hurt, the way I hurt.

But Bro wasn't fighting back, he just stood there taking it, and I pounded on him til I grew exhausted, then stood there breathing hard, both of us covered in his bright red blood. 

"You broke my fuckin shades," Bro drawled after a minute, and I couldn't help laughing - they were indeed cracked and askew.

"And my nose, I think. You done?" 

I sighed, and felt the urge to fight drain out of me. "Yeah. Yeah I'm done." 

"Soo..." Bro drawled, "you wanna take a shower?"


	5. Chapter 5

It was the only time I could remember ever having seen Bro without his shades, and I couldn't help staring at those brilliant orange eyes, as I leaned back against the warming shower tiles. The water was scalding hot, the way Bro liked it, but I needed a break from the heat that made my pale skin bloom scarlet. 

Plus, it gave me a chance to admire Bro's lanky, cut figure, totally nude, soaping the drying blood off his face and chest. The ruddy suds were pooling around my bony feet, and I felt a brief twinge of guilt for the bruised break in Bro's nose, though I quickly pushed that feeling aside (how many times had Bro banged me up??). 

I wanted to stay angry - that intoxicating rush of fury had been powerful, freeing - but there was nothing left. In its place, I felt alert detachment, tinged with arousal, as I watched my brother lathering himself up. 

My reverie was broken by Bro's drawled taunt, "You gonna get cleaned up, or ya jus here for the show??" 

Despite myself, I blushed again, and was glad that the heat excused my reddened cheeks. 

"Ahh, jus the show, I think," I clowned, tongue out, doing my best Tex Avery wolf. 

Bro snorted. "C'mere." 

Warily, I stepped forward, tensing as Bro firmly lifted me up and moved me to the back of the shower, safely out of the punishing torrent. 

Humming some beats, Bro squirted a pile of shampoo onto his hands and began to rub it into my soft hair, working it deep into the roots, and massaging the scalp.

The gesture was unexpected, and I felt a lump rising in my throat, along with an anxiety I could not subdue, feeling Bro's hands so dangerously close to my throat and neck.

Shutting my eyes, _breathe, fucker_ , I willed myself to calm down and enjoy the attention. 

Briefly, I wondered if Bro used to wash me like this when I was a little kid - I couldn't remember it - but the image was kind of freaking me out, so I quickly pushed it out of mind.

The hard bar of soap felt all kinds of good rubbing against my shoulder muscles, back, sides, and arms, so I tried to focus on that. 

Bro nudged me forward, and I let myself be leaned into the shower wall, allowing him to spread my thighs apart, and work the bar of soap into the slit of my ass.

***

GodDAMN but washin my lanky little bro was hot.

With supreme effort, I controlled the urge to slide a soapy finger into Dave's tight hole - I didn't wanna scare the kid off after what I'd put him through the night before. I smirked inwardly, thinkin how fuckin sore that virgin ass must be - I had really let myself go. Better not push it, if I wanted another chance at it - and holy god did I ever, my cock was jumping to action at the thought. 

For now, I contented myself with stroking those lean, white thighs. The kid was insanely fuckin tense, and I took my time rubbing meditative circles into the light gold down on his slender legs and arms. 

After a few minutes, Dave felt more pliant, so I gave his warm cock an experimental squeeze, and was thrilled by his responsiveness - a shuddery intake of breath that trembled through his narrow frame. 

"Ya like that, huh?" I growled. 

"Ye- yes!" Dave stammered. 

Fiercely aroused, I pressed my raging hard-on against Dave's firm, flat ass, and began pulling him off slowly with tight, soapy tugs.

"Tell me what ya want," I drawled, pressing my stubbled jaw into Dave's smooth neck. 

"Mmmmore Bro," Dave gasped. 

The kid wasn't even trying to hide his low, slutty moans anymore, and his abject neediness inflamed me. 

"What's that?" 

"More, more, please, _please_ make me cum!" Dave begged breathily, bucking wildly into my hand. 

I pulled away for a moment, teasing him, but when he softly mewled "Bro..." and wiggled impetuously for more, my chest swelled with an animal pride and possessiveness. 

I frotted hard against my little brother's ass as I continued to jerk him off, and my own cock was dripping as the kid burst explosively inside my hand, sending thick strands shooting onto the tiles. 

Dave was panting, his legs spread wide, and the urge to stuff my aching cock inside that fluttering, tight little hole was nearly overpowering, but I steeled myself, just this once, to let the kid enjoy his high - there would be plenty of time.

My delicate baby bro - bruised, beautiful, long-lashed, pure, and perfect - was all mine, at last.


End file.
